Those Who Save Us
by curravelle
Summary: "We come to love those who save us." Everyone knows that Jo became a hunter despite protestations from her mom, but what if Jo had reappeared in the Winchesters' lives a little earlier? Begins at 4x2. Follows canon with the AU addition of Jo. [DeanxJo, SamxOC] (I do not own Supernatural or its characters in any way.)
1. The Risen

**The Risen**

**SPN EPISODE(S): 4.2 **_**Are You There, God? It's Me, Dean Winchester**_

"_We're all of us haunted and haunting." - Chuck Palahniuk_

The minute Jo Harvelle cracked open her eyes to the sunlight streaming in through the curtains of her motel room window, she knew immediately that something was wrong. The temperature in her room was far too cold for September, and her thinking was proven correct at the visible fog breath that escaped her mouth and the hairs on her neck and arms stood straight up.

Only one thing could cause such an anomaly: a ghost.

Luckily, she had gotten in late last night because of a previous hunt, so she was still dressed and had her beloved sawed-off shotgun (that never left her side) propped us next to her bed. Sitting up slowly and grabbing the gun, she checked to make sure that it was still loaded with rounds of rock salt – the ideal method to rid ghosts temporarily while finding the correct corpse to salt and burn. Seeing that her favorite weapon was indeed loaded, Jo clicked the butt end and the barrel together again and rose to her feet. The bed springs of the cheap motel bed squeaked as she shifted her weight forward. She brought the butt end to rest against her shoulder and started to scan the room, ready to fire as soon as her supernatural attacker appeared.

The voice of the ghost, however, was not one she expected.

"Miss Jo, why couldn't you save me?" Jo spun around and looked at the source of the small voice. Standing in the middle of her room was Timmy, the young boy she didn't save from one of her very first hunts on her own. A couple of years back, Jo had investigated a report that claimed young Timmy was seeing a scary man in his room when he went to sleep at night. At first glance, it would seem that this event was not even worth reporting, and could be deemed as a child's nightmare. But Timmy could recount the man and the times he visited in such vivid detail that his parents were forced to contact the police.

Sensing that the case may be supernatural, Jo headed to Creston, Iowa posed as an FBI agent to investigate before the "scary man" caused any harm to Timmy or his parents. Jo interviewed Timmy, secretly telling him her real name and promising to get the scary man that was troubling him. Timmy told Jo that the man had sharp, pointy teeth and was very pale. His description of the man matched a few men seen around town, and so Jo broke into the local police station to search for possible matches. She went to homes and interview suspects, keeping a machete in the inside of her FBI suit jacket.

But before Jo located the correct suspect, he attacked Timmy in the middle of the night. All this time Jo had tried to comfort herself after the young boy's death by telling herself that it was one of her first cases and that she was inexperienced. She repeated this fact over and over to herself for months after the accident, usually following her mantra with a few shots of whiskey. However the guilt still weighed on her heavily. She had broken her promise to him, and felt responsible for his death and his parents' grief.

Now, the boy who would remain five years old forever with black hair and the bluest of eyes stood in front of her. His skin was ashen, and a massive gash from his vampiric attacker marred his neck. "You promised," he reminded her at a near whisper, voice cracking a little. "You said you would get the scary man."

Lowering her gun slightly, she regarded Timmy with regret. "I'm so sorry, Timmy," Jo replied "I tried to get him for you."

"LIAR!" Timmy suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs, fists clenched at his sides and stamping his foot for effect.

"No, no Timmy. I really tried." Jo whispered in response, two years of guilt suddenly coming on all at once. Tears began to prick at her eyes. A massive lump formed in her throat and her mouth felt dry. This could not be happening. She could not think of anything to say that might earn this boy's forgiveness.

"Do you see what he did to me?" Timmy asked, becoming cynical. He craned his neck to show her the gaping wound that now marred the entire left side of it. The tendons and ligaments stretched as he moved his head, brownish blood dribbling out. He then pointed to it for emphasis, the blood stained the collar of his shirt. "That's what the scary man did to me."

Jo was left speechless for a moment. When she found her voice, all she could whisper again was "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." he answered. "Because my mommy and daddy always taught me how to be fair, so now it's your turn to die."

The boy suddenly developed a frightening smile, and began walking towards Jo. She reacted quickly, pulling her gun up again to point at the apparition and began walking backwards slowly to buy herself more time. "Timmy, please," she warned, "I don't want to shoot you."

"You might as well have the first time." he shot back, suddenly seeming wiser beyond his years. Something was wrong. The Timmy she had met was a shy and caring boy. One who hugged onto his mother's leg while the reporters tried to interview him. Nothing like what he seemed now. This was different. No six year old would ever think something like that. Sensing no other option, Jo fired a round of rock salt square into Timmy's chest. The boy dissipated in a cloud of smoke and a burst of sparks. Jo wasted little time once he was gone. She grabbed her bag – a huge, hunter green duffel bag containing her clothes and weapons – and threw the strap over her shoulder, still clutching her sawed-off should Timmy reappear.

Throwing her bag into the bed of her old pick-up truck, she rounded the corner and made her way to the driver's side door. She climbed in and threw her shotgun down so that it was next to her on the bench seat. She started the car and pulled out, spraying gravel from the parking lot as she swung the truck around and headed toward Creston to find and burn the remains of Timmy. She made it onto the highway in record time, only having to dodge a few cars in the early morning light. Jo floored the accelerator and calculated how long it would take her to get there. It was 9:07 am now and she was in Fremont, Nebraska, meaning it would take her about… two and a half hours to get there. Sensing the urgency (she might not have that much time before Timmy came back) she gripped the steering wheel harder and pushed her foot down even further.

"Miss Jo, that wasn't very nice." The little voice next to her made Jo start and swerve the car a little, earning some angry honks from other drivers. She turned to look at him, balancing looking at him and at the road ahead. On one of her glances she caught something on Timmy out of the corner of her eye. A strange little red mark on the back of his hand, shaped like some kind of sigil.

"Timmy, listen to me. I'm very, _very_ sorry for what happened to you. I tried my hardest, I really did." Jo's voice became thick near the end, the rush of guilt returning in a wave that made her head feel warm and flushed.

"My mommy always said it wasn't nice to lie. Why are you lying now?" He looked up at her with innocent eyes. They quickly changed darker as he said "You shouldn't have lied."

_Damn. _Timmy began to lunge for her again, but Jo had already grabbed her shotgun and fired another rock salt round into him, the kick of the gun slamming the butt into the side of her ribs. She bent over in pain for a brief moment before pulling herself back up to continue driving. She kept her left hand held over her ribs while her right continued to hold the wheel. That would leave a bruise. She bent over to the passenger side floor where an iron crowbar rested. She would use this instead, preserving her salt rounds and saving herself from having to shoot her gun in the cabin of her truck again. Her phone rang shrilly, causing her to jump again. The caller I.D. read **Bobby Singer.**

"Not now, Bobby." Jo said to herself through gritted teeth. He would have to wait. Right now, she had a corpse waiting that needed a good salting and burning.

As soon as the phone stopped ringing and the message **1 missed call** appeared on her cell phone, the phone shrilled loudly again. The caller I.D. remained the same: **Bobby Singer**. Muttering a soft curse, she switched her hands around so that she could flip open her cell. This had better be an emergency. "Bobby, I'm a little busy right now."

"Jo! Oh, thank _God _you're there!" Bobby breathed a sigh of relief into the phone.

"Um, yeah, everything's just peachy on this end." Jo retorted. "Why do you sound so worried?"

"Why I'm callin' ya, kid. Listen, something weird's goin' on."

"Isn't it always in our world?" Jo interjected, still riding an adrenaline rush.

"This isn't the time for jokes!" Bobby disciplined, causing Jo to sit up straighter in alarm. "Hunters are gettin' killed right now because of vengeful spirits showin' up. You seen anything like that?"

That grabbed Jo's attention. "As a matter of fact, yes. What's going on?" Jo asked nervously as she sped down the highway. She scanned for cops and then pushed the gas pedal a little closer to the floor of her truck.

"We're not exactly sure why it's happening right now."

"'We'?" Jo asked. "You have someone there with you, Bobby?" Even though Bobby was a more experienced hunter than her, Jo always worried about him, especially as he got older. She was happy there was another hunter there with him.

"Yeah, it's me and Sam," _Sam? _Jo asked herself. Whenever she heard his name, she used to always hope that it would be followed by the older Winchester brother's name. Now, Dean was dead. In _Hell _nonetheless, from a soul deal to save his younger brother. Rumor around the hunter mill was that hell hounds had torn him to strips. Her hope had always been stupid and childish, and decided to focus on her predicament instead. "and…_balls_." Bobby's voice trailed in panic. Jo held her breath, worrying about him.

"_Bobby, don't listen to them!" _she heard someone who sounded a lot like Sam bellow on the other end of the phone. A few seconds after that, there was some loud crashing and a few rifle shots before the line clicked dead.

"Dammit! Bobby I'm coming!" she yelled, not knowing whether or not he had heard her. She snapped her phone shut and tossed it next to her in the seat. Sioux Falls was three hours away from where she was. _Two _hours away she corrected herself. She was going to break a few traffic laws to get to Bobby's. Jo took another look around for cops and other drivers. Seeing that neither were in her way, she drifted her truck around and started speeding in the other direction towards Sioux Falls.

"Do you know what's _really _not fair, miss Jo?" Timmy suddenly piped up, appearing in Jo's passenger seat again. "My mommy and daddy were _so _upset that I died, that they decided that they didn't want to be married anymore."

If Jo had felt any guilt before, it now doubled. Taking no more risks, she picked up the crowbar and sliced it through Timmy's torso.

Jo made it to Bobby's house in record time around an hour and a half later, and ran to the screen door, holding her shotgun with one hand. She took a moment deciding whether or not to knock. She didn't want to burst through the front door and startle Bobby and Sam and end up taking a round of rock salt to the chest as a consequence, but at the same time she wondered if Bobby and Sam would need her in there right away.

Jo finally decided to knock, knowing that they most likely wouldn't need help if there were two of them. They could probably handle it themselves. She knocked a few consecutive times and waited for any sign that someone was coming. It didn't take long for someone to answer, Bobby came and let her in. She stepped inside and began walking toward his office while telling him about her recent encounters. "Hey, Bobby," Jo began, "I've been seeing someone, or some_thing_, too. It's this little boy that-"

She was cut off by her own shock at the person she saw sitting on the couch. "_Shit_," she muttered to herself, and raised her gun to fire.

* * *

At this point, Bobby, Dean, and Sam had all received visits from the ghosts of those that they didn't save. Sam had seen agent Henriksen, Dean had seen Meg, and Bobby had seen the Miller twins. They were all gathered around Bobby's desk now, discussing why spirits were now seeking revenge on the hunters that couldn't save them. Dean was cleaning his shotgun, while Bobby and Sam scoured the shelves for books that may help them solve their current dilemma.

"I got a hold of Jo earlier this morning," Bobby told the brothers. "I think I heard her say that she was coming this way."

"Jo?" Dean almost balked. No, this couldn't be happening. Dean had told her he'd call her, and then had wrestled with himself later about whether to follow through with that promise. He wanted to call her desperately because he felt something inside of him whenever she was around. He became protective of her when she was around, and this in turn made him a sharper hunter. Maybe he had feelings for her. And when he had told her that he would call her that night after saving her from a possessed Sam, he broke his promise. Any other guy would have called her. But not Dean. Dean had told himself that he wouldn't call her. She deserved more than him. She also didn't need any more encouragement to join the hunting lifestyle. She was pretty, young, smart. A girl like her shouldn't throw her life away to hunt. Apparently, his avoided phone call had not changed her mind.

"Yep," Bobby confirmed, breaking Dean out of his reverie. "Said she's seen a vengeful spirit, too. Decided to come and see if she could help out. 'Sides, there's safety in numbers, right?"

"Right," Sam confirmed, studying the book that was now in front of him.

Dean said nothing more, just kept staring ahead of himself in a daze. This could not be happening. What would she say when she saw him? Did she know about his death, and now his mysterious resurrection? Was she still angry that he never called her? A million of these thoughts ran through his mind as a quick session of knocks sounded on Bobby's front screen door.

All three of the guys' heads turned toward the sound, and Bobby stood up to answer it. Dean gulped as he went, knowing who was at the door. Dean heard the screen door screech open, and the sound of her voice began floating his way, getting louder and louder as she approached. "_Hey, Bobby. I've been seeing someone, or some_thing_, too. It's this little boy that_-"

Dean's eyes met hers then for the first time in almost two years. He braced himself for whatever her reaction might be. Surprise? Anger? Joy? He expected that those three were a possibility, but he didn't expect her to raise her shotgun and point it square at his chest.

* * *

Jo could literally not believe her eyes. She stood transfixed, unable to process what, or rather _who_, was in front of her. Vengeful spirits? Sure, no problem. But please, _not him_. She replaced her sadness with anger and drew up her shotgun to fire at his chest. Dean, however, made no moves to put up his hands.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Sam yelled, getting up from behind Bobby's desk and moving towards Jo. He put a hand up to her in warning "Jo, it's really him. We already did the holy water and silver blade routine. He just got back a couple days ago."

"_What?_" Jo barely whispered out, unable to believe that Dean was in front of her, alive and in one piece. She lowered her rifle. Her eyes stayed on Dean, even though she was talking to Sam.

"It's really me, Jo." Dean said back, his voice thick as well.

Jo finally broke her stare at Dean, turning to look at both Sam and Bobby for confirmation. Both offered her a shrug and a slight nod. This could not be happening. Here she was, just about over the fact that she and Dean would never have their chance when he suddenly and miraculously comes back. Was this too good to be true? Was there some kind of catch? It didn't matter. Without another word, she walked towards Dean.

Dean seemed a little unsure of what was she going to do. Shove him? Yell at him? Punch him (again)? She did none of those things. Instead, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck in a firm hug. The movement made her freshly bruised side a little sore.

Dean seemed apprehensive of the gesture. But then he too lifted his arms to wrap them around her torso. Dean shut his eyes, enjoying the feel of her small frame in his arms.

Sam and Bobby stood there in silence. Neither seemed sure of what to do. Bobby decided to take the bullet and said "I hate to break up this little reunion, but there are some pretty nasty spirits after us."

At his comment, both Dean and Jo seemed to suddenly realize what they were doing, and stepped back from each other. Sam seemed confused by the interaction, his quirked eyebrow and short huff of a laugh showing it. Jo nervously looked around herself, and sniffed a little. "Um, it's good to have you back, Dean. Bobby, Sam." Bobby and Sam both nodded to her in greeting.

"Yeah. It's good to see you, too, Jo." Dean smiled a little at how embarrassed she seemed, and Jo just nodded at the ground.

"Um, how are you back?" Jo asked him, as if she had just realized that she didn't know how one escaped hell.

"It's a long story," Dean explained. "But so far the only explanation we got – and I still don't know if I believe it – is that an _angel _brought me back."

"_What?"_ Jo questioned. Angels wouldn't rescue Dean Winchester from the pits of hell just for kicks. Perhaps he was saved for all of the others he had saved, or maybe something much, much bigger than that.

"Yeah, we're still kinda workin' on it." Dean lamely explained with a nonchalant shrug. Jo, on the other hand, was left reeling.

"Okay, so the spirits we're seeing – they're all people we know?" Sam clarified, ready to get back to the case on hand.

"Not just people we know, people we couldn't save." Dean corrected, rejoining the current investigation. He walked back over to the couch, where he had been loading his rifle. "Hey, I saw something on Meg. Did she have a tattoo when she was alive?"

Shrugging, Sam replied "I don't think so."

"What did it look like?" Jo asked, appearing thoughtful and deciding to bring up the angel situation up again after the vengeful spirits were taken care of. That was no situation to write off.

"It was like a, uh, mark on her hand. Almost like a brand." Dean replied.

Jo thought back to her last encounter with Timmy. When he had been sitting beside her in the cabin of her pick-up she had noticed a little raised mark on his hand, like a tiny little burn. "Oh! Yeah, I saw that on…" she was about to say his name, but didn't want the Winchesters or Bobby to know about Timmy. "on the spirit, too."

"Same thing with Henriksen." Sam agreed, pointing at Jo to validate his claim.

"Well, what did it look like?" Bobby questioned the three of them.

Sam flustered for a moment, and asked Bobby for some paper. Bobby handed Sam a little tablet that had been sitting on his desk. Sam began sketching immediately, making circles on the paper. After a few seconds, he held up his work – a little circle with an intricate pattern inside – to both Dean and Jo.

"That's it." they both confirmed. Sam handed his drawing to Bobby, who also said he may have seen the symbol before. He turned to his bookshelf, looking for the origin of the symbol. Jo followed in his wake, walking to the desk to look over their research so far.

A sudden crackle in the radio froze all four hunters in the room. "We gotta move!" Bobby declared, hurriedly depositing copious amounts of heavy books into both Sam and Jo's arms.

"Hey!" Jo lightly protested.

"You come to help, you _help_. Now quit whinin' and follow me." Bobby retorted.

"Okay, where are we going?" Sam asked.

"Someplace safe, ya idjit!"

* * *

Bobby Singer was probably the coolest hunter ever. He built a panic room off of his basement. _A panic room_. And this wasn't your average panic room, either. This one was specialized to keep out ghosts and demons. Its walls were made out of iron that had been coated in salt. There was a variety of weapons and ammo lining one of the walls, a demon trap in the middle of the floor, and even food and a bed.

That's where Bobby, Jo, and the Winchester brothers all sat now. Sam and Dean were packing shells with salt to use against their vengeful ghosts, while Jo and Bobby combed through thickly bound books looking for the mysterious brand and any other clues that could help.

After a long silence, Dean spoke up. "You see, this is why I can't get behind God."

His sudden outburst had all three of the other hunters looking up at him in confusion. Jo was probably the most confused of all, having learned of Dean's resurrection and how it came to be only an hour or so beforehand. Her eyebrows knit together as she looked at him.

Before she could say anything, Sam spoke for her "What do you mean?"

"If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason – just random, horrible evil. I get it, okay? I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what's wrong with him?" He looked around to the other three before continuing, "Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does he live with himself, you know? Why doesn't he help?"

His rant trailed off, as he realized was going to get no answer. Sam, Jo, and Bobby all looked at each other, unsure of what to say to comfort him. Jo's heart ached for him. She desperately wanted something she could say to him that would help. She had an idea, but before she could speak her mind, Bobby muttered "I ain't touchin' this one with a ten foot pole!"

Jo smiled to herself. That would lighten the mood for now and get Dean off of the subject. Dean and Sam turned around to finish their rock salt rounds, but Bobby suddenly said "Found it."

"What?" Sam asked.

"The symbol you saw – the brand of the ghosts….Mark of the Witness," he explained.

"What do you mean 'witness'. Witness… to what?" Jo questioned, standing up and walking around the table to read over his shoulder.

"The unnatural," Bobby elaborated. "None of them died what you'd call 'ordinary deaths'. See, these ghosts? There were _forced _to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone rose them…on purpose."

"Who?" Sam asked. Jo wondered the same.

"Do I look like I know?" Bobby retorted. "But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans. It's called the 'Rising of the Witnesses'. It figures into an ancient prophecy."

Jo stood up straight again from leaning over his shoulder and looked to the Winchester brothers to gauge their reactions. They seemed to be on the same page as her, wondering where this strange phenomena could be heading. Sam stood up and walked over to join her and Bobby in reading over this book.

"Wait. What – what book is that prophecy from?" Dean asked, standing to join everyone else.

"Well the widely distributed version's just for tourists. But, long story short – Revelations."

"Revelations?" Jo balked. "Like…" she trailed off, afraid to continue. She looked between Bobby and the brothers frantically, hoping someone would offer another explanation. However, Sam and Dean's response was to cock their heads to the side.

"Yup. This is a sign." Bobby added.

"A sign of what?" the brothers asked. They had not yet caught on to what Jo and Bobby had discovered.

She looked back up to both of them as Bobby said "The apocalypse."

"Apocalypse? The _apocalypse, _apocalypse?" Dean asked. Jo kept on staring straight ahead, willing her brain to process the new found information. Sam seemed to be in the same state of mind as her, but Dean continued on, somewhat angrily, "The four horsemen, pestilence, five-dollar-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?"

"That's the one." Bobby conceded. "The Rise of the Witness is a mile marker."

"Okay." Jo nodded, snapping herself out of her trance and getting back into the conversation. She put her hands on her hips, steeling herself and nodding grimly for whatever came next. "What do we do now?"

Dean scoffed. "Roadtrip. Grand Canyon-" he began spouting off a makeshift bucket list.

Jo would have none of it. Instead, she cut him off by turning to Bobby and demanding "No. I mean, what do we _have_ to do? How do we stop this, right now?" She waved an arm towards the door of the panic room, indicating the ghosts that waited for them outside.

"There's a spell." Bobby turned back to his book. "One to send the witnesses back. I think it'll work."

"_Should_. Great." Sam added bitterly.

Jo ignored him, getting angry at the brothers. If this _was _a sign of the apocalypse, she wasn't going to sit in this dank room until her judgment day. She was going to fight it, going down swinging if she had to. "What do we need?" she asked, speaking over Sam.

"If I have it translated correctly, I think we've got everything we need in the house," Bobby said, sounding pleasantly surprised.

"Any chance you got everything we need right here in this room?" Dean snipped, pointing at the ground to emphasize his point.

"So you thought our luck was gonna start now, all of a sudden?" Bobby retorted. He shook his head, stood up to walk across the room, and added "Spell's got to be cast over an open fire."

"So then, the fireplace upstairs?" Sam asked. Jo walked over to the table and began gathering all of the rounds of rock salt the boys had finished, loading them into guns.

"Bingo."

"Well that's just not as appealing as a, uh, ghost-proof panic room, ya know?" Dean commented. Jo smirked, and handed him a loaded shotgun in preparation to face their battle upstairs.

* * *

**AN: Thank you for reading! This is my first published fanfic ever. This story will soon have its own blog on Tumblr.**


	2. Everything is the Same

A/N: I should have said this last chapter as well, but I do not own Supernatural or the characters in any way. Thank you so much to **Katiefall, KeepCalmAndDoItLikeAFanGirl, JBethH, Maeusle, **and **The Mad Traveler **for the reviews, and to everyone who followed and favorited this story!

_**Those Who Save Us**_

**Chapter 2: Everything is the Same**

**SPN Episodes: **(_Are You There God? It's Me, Dean Winchester_) (_In the Beginning_)

"_And still everything's the same, even though I did my best to get as far away as I could." – Young-Ha Kim_

All four hunters had made their way up to Bobby's library with the orders to cover each other, aim carefully, and to not run out of ammo. They ran into only one spirit on their way there, a man named Ronald that they boys couldn't save. Dean had tried to make peace with him, but as Ronald's anger increased, Bobby's patience did not. Bobby had shot Ronald as he stood up to make his way towards them.

As soon as they made it into the library, everyone immediately went to work. Sam began to lay a line of salt down across the room, Dean lit a fire, and Jo grabbed a bowl for Bobby while he looked up the correct spell he needed. Even though they had made it to the study, some ingredients they needed were still scattered throughout the house. Bobby immediately decided he needed to send Jo and the boys to gather what he needed.

Looking up at Sam, Bobby commanded "Upstairs, linen closet. Red hex box. It'll be heavy."

Sam obeyed the order immediately, running up the stairs to get said box. The next thing Bobby needed he decided to send Jo after. Looking at her, he ordered "Upstairs, my bedroom, small wooden chest. Should be under the bed."

Jo nodded, and started to follow Sam. Dean moved to follow her, his protective instincts towards her heightening as she went off alone in a house full of ghosts hellbent on killing her.

"I need you here, Dean!" Bobby yelled, halting Dean.

As she ascended the stairs two at a time, she could hear Bobby ordering Dean to the kitchen. Jo made it to the top of the staircase, and started to run down the hall towards Bobby's bedroom. She would have to run past the hallway that the linen closet was in – where Sam would be searching for the hex box. She was just about to pass that hall, when she heard a conversation between Sam and another one of the spirits that stopped her. She stayed put behind the wall, careful that neither Sam nor the ghost would hear her.

"You know what _really_ pisses me off, Sam?" a female ghost asked. "You saw how I suffered for _months_. I thought you must have learned something. I thought I died for something."

"Meg," Sam seemed to plead, as if he knew where the conversation was going. Like he knew what she would accuse him of.

Not liking how the situation was sounding, Jo's heart rate picked up. What was she talking about? What had Sam done? Her questions were answered as the ghost, now known as Meg to her, continued on "But what you're doing with that demon, Ruby? How many innocent bodies has Ruby burned through for kicks? How many girls, just like me? And you don't send _her_ back to hell?! You're a monster."

Jo's blood ran cold. Sam working with a demon? She thought she must have misunderstood. But how could she have? This "Meg" obviously had shaken Sam, enough to make him pause before he shot her with a salt round. Did Dean or Bobby know about this? Jo shook her head. Right now she had to focus on getting that wooden chest back to Bobby so that the angry spirits could be cast away. The rest could be sorted out later.

Bursting through Bobby's bedroom door, Jo immediately saw a blonde haired woman standing in the middle of Bobby's room. "Hi Jo!" she said in a bubbly voice. "Remember me?" Jo studied the woman's face, and a picture in a newspaper clipping popped into her mind. Of course. Jo had poured over this girl's case for days, studying it. It was her first, after all.

"Yeah, I think I do." Jo replied evenly, lifting her gun in defense.

"Well, we actually never met," she confessed with a frown. "But you took a great interest in my story! My name's Rita. I lived in a small apartment in Philadelphia…." She trailed off, hoping to spark Jo's memory further.

"Yep. Rita Myers. The H.H. Holmes case?"

"Yay!" Rita burst, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. "I'm so glad that you remembered me. That way you'll know why I have to kill you."

"Come on, Rita. It doesn't have to be this way." Jo cautioned her, pointing her gun square at Rita.

Rita, on the other hand, seemed completely unphased. "You know, it is a shame that no one took an interest in that case a little sooner. I mean, six blonde girls going missing in the same apartment complex? And over a period of 80 years? You'd think hunters would have shown interest at some point. I mean, you did, but you were too late. And that's not good enough, because I was already in the ground by the time you met up with the Winchesters." Rita explained, a small frown on her face. "But look at me now!"

Jo couldn't help but do as she ordered, seeing that Rita had pieces of her hair and scalp torn from her head. Her clothes were torn, probably from Holmes grabbing her the same way he had tried to grab Jo. Her nails were bloody stumps, and with sickening realization Jo figured that must explain the scratch marks that she had seen above her in that tiny little box Holmes had put her in.

"That creep took me and put me into this tiny steel box- Oh! Silly me. I forgot that you know exactly what I'm talking about. The only difference is that you were in there for, like, a couple hours while I was in there for over _two days_. You were so busy trying to prove yourself to that Winchester that you're in love with that you let yourself get caught. And to think that he turned around and just used you as _bait_. Like father, like daughter."

Jo's anger flared. She wasn't going to waste any more time listening this crap. So she shot Rita with a salt round, grabbed the chest, and ran downstairs to rejoin Bobby.

* * *

Bobby's house had turned quite literally into a war zone. Ghosts continued to pop up everywhere – Timmy, Rita, Henriksen, the twins, Meg, Ronald. Jo put the wooden chest on the desk next to Bobby, and turned to put more rounds of rock salt into her shotgun. Bobby began the spell, chanting in a language that sounded like Latin.

The spirits seemed to sense that they were going to be cast back to where they had come from, and so they started appearing faster and faster. Jo and the brothers focused on guarding Bobby while he tried to finish the spell. They were having little difficulty in keeping the spirits away. That is, until the ghost of Henriksen threw Dean's shotgun clear out of his hands while he was trying to reload it. Dean picked up another shotgun, only to find that it wasn't loaded. At a loss, he picked up a crowbar and swung it through Henriksen's torso.

Sam soon ran out of ammo as well, leaving him vulnerable to attack. Meg took this as a great opportunity to shove a dresser into him, pinning him against the wall. Sam struggled to push the heavy object away from himself, but he was no match for Meg's supernatural strength. Dean called out to his brother, alerting Jo to Sam's situation. The twins appeared on top of the dresser, and Jo quickly shot a round of salt into them. Dropping her shotgun on Bobby's desk, she went over to help Sam pry the dresser off. Jo hadn't been helping Sam for even a couple seconds before Rita appeared beside her and shoved her into the wall.

Jo's back slammed into the wall so hard that it knocked the wind out of her. Her knees buckled against the wall, leaving her vulnerable to Rita's next move. As Rita was standing over her though, Dean's crowbar quickly took care of her.

"Are you okay?" Dean shouted. Jo nodded as she took deep breaths, willing the air back into her lungs. She stood straight once again and immediately noticed Timmy standing behind Dean. Jo lunged for her shotgun and emptied a round into him.

Bobby suddenly gasped and then began moaning in pain. Dean and Jo looked over to see Meg with her arm through Bobby's back, gripping his heart. "Bobby!" Dean screamed, concern in his voice.

"Dean!" Bobby called back in warning. The spell bowl was slipping from his hands. Without a second thought, Dean immediately lunged for the bowl, catching it in dramatic fashion just before the contents could spill all over the ground, therefore ruining everything Bobby had done so far. "Fireplace!"

Dean obeyed the command, and threw the contents of the bowl onto the fire. The fire turned blue immediately, and started growing bigger and brighter. All four hunters were able to shield their eyes just in time as a blast of blue light overtook the room, taking all of the vengeful spirits with it.

All became quiet. Sam pushed the dresser off of himself and Dean helped Bobby off of the ground.

* * *

Still seated in the study, everyone was quiet, mulling over everything that had just happened and what they'd all been told by vengeful spirits. They were exhausted, bruised, and bloody.

Sam let out a huff. "Well, I need a beer. Anyone else want one?"

He started walking away, and Dean called out after him "Yeah, Sammy, I'll take one." Turning to Jo, he added, "You want one?"

Jo seemed to not even hear Dean. She was still lost in her thoughts, staring straight ahead. Everything she had been accused of had felt like a punch to the gut. Everything that Rita had accused her of had hit a little too close to home. If she knew that much about Jo, that must mean that everything those spirits said was true. It meant that Rita suffered in that box for over two days, and that Timmy's parents really did get divorced – Jo felt responsible for all of it. And if the ghosts had all told the truth, that also meant that Sam was somehow working with a demon. For what, she wasn't sure of yet. She walked outside and stood out on Bobby's front porch with her arms crossed, gazing out into the salvage yard.

Back inside, Dean's eyebrows were pushed together with confusion. He turned to Bobby, hoping that the older hunter would have an answer for why Jo had wordlessly paced outside. "Kid," Bobby said, "I wish I could help ya, but maybe you oughta figure this one out on your own."

Sam returned and tried to hand Dean the bottle of beer that he had requested, but Dean had other things on his mind. Even as Sam tried to nudge Dean's arm with the bottle, Dean payed him no attention. Instead, he stood up to follow Jo outside. He found her on the porch, looking out into the dark.

As she heard the screen door screech open behind her, Jo braced herself. She really wanted to be alone with her thoughts right now, and didn't need anyone trying to help her. She wasn't about to get her way.

"Jo?" Dean questioned in his raspy voice. "What's goin' on?"

"Nothing, Dean. I'm fine," she answered through a cracked voice, not turning to look at him. "Just need to be alone for a while."

Unsure of what to do, Dean muttered a soft "Okay." and went to go back inside. He was never good at the "touchy-feely crap" as he so lovingly put it, and wasn't sure how to comfort Jo right now.

Jo, however, suddenly felt guilty for the way she had just dismissed Dean. He was just trying to help, after all. The man had just gotten back from Hell and was still checking that _she _was okay. She had spent the past four months grieving over him, and she wasn't going to push him away now.

"Dean," she called to him. She turned around and saw that he had only made it about halfway through the screen door.

"Yeah?" he questioned, looking at her hopefully.

With his eyes suddenly boring into hers, she wasn't quite sure what to say. A few moments passed where they looked at each other hesitantly, an awkward silence passing between them. Finally, Jo spoke. "Sorry… it's just that those spirits knew exactly what to say to get under your skin."

"Yeah, it's a little unnerving." Dean responded. He shrugged through the door again to stand with her on the porch.

"Is everything they said the truth?" she wondered aloud, staring down at the ground. Suddenly, her mind flashed back to when she was asking Dean if demons told the truth. That night seemed so long ago now. She wanted to know if she had caused Rita and Timmy that much pain, and if Sam really was working with a demon. If that was true...well then, she wasn't sure what she would do.

Dean let out a short laugh, remembering when she had asked him a similar question years earlier. He scratched his head nervously. "Uh, probably. I mean, they knew a lot of stuff about me. They even knew that I had been 'saved' from hell."

"Yeah," Jo murmured. She sat down on one of the porch chairs and started tapping her boot nervously on the floor.

"Hey," Dean said, sensing her discomfort. He sat down in a chair opposite her. "I wouldn't pay it too much mind."

"Yeah, I know. It just… makes you think." she responded. She suddenly felt nervous, letting her guard down in front of Dean. She changed the subject. "So, did an angel really save you from hell?"

Dean laughed. "Yeah, looks like. I even met him. Said his name was 'Castiel'." He said the name with fake bravado, not really buying into the angel crap. "I still can't wrap my head around it."

"Why?" she asked, looking up at him with a small smile. This was one of those rare moments in which you may be able to get Dean Winchester to bare a little bit of his soul to you, and she wasn't about to pass it up.

"Because why would God want to save _me_?" he said, throwing his head up a little. "I mean, sure, I've saved some people. But me? And if this is the apocalypse, why now? Just so that he can throw me back down?" There was a slight pause as he mulled things over. "I'm not even sure that I believe in angels and God."

"Dean," Jo began, "If you spend the last several months in _hell_, what makes you think that the other side doesn't exist, too?"

* * *

Dean and Jo had talked for a little while longer. She seemed to not be bothered by the spirit stuff so much anymore, and had even got the stoic Dean Winchester to open up to her a little bit. They rejoined Sam and Bobby for a beer inside, and talked about their previous hunts with Jo.

They talked and laughed about some of the weirder hunts they'd been on, but the mood became more somber as they discussed the pressing matter at hand. Was it really the apocalypse? Why was it happening now?

Jo noticed the time, and said that she should get on the road soon if she wanted to find a decent motel. Bobby immediately told her that was nonsense, that she should just crash at his place. Besides, she did have a couple of beers in her. And, he pointed out, if this was in fact the apocalypse, then they should all stay together. Both Winchester brothers agreed wholeheartedly with Bobby.

Jo was immediately relieved, because even though she wouldn't admit it to herself, she was a little nervous about going out by herself if it was the apocalypse. Dean had become agitated too, not wanting Jo out there by herself. Being to hell and back had not deterred any of his protective instincts toward her, it appeared.

Sam and Dean had agreed to give Jo the couch while they slept on the floor. Jo had refused, arguing that she didn't mind sleeping on the floor. Neither brother would hear it.

And, as his brother and Jo slept, Dean was visited again by the angel Castiel.

* * *

After Castiel had appeared again to Dean, he explained to Bobby, Sam, and Jo what Castiel had told him. It had turned out that Castiel had known about the witnesses, and that the spell that rose them was one of the 66 seals of the apocalypse. Those seals were currently being broken by Lilith.

"Well, what happens when all of those seals are broken?" Sam had asked.

"'Lucifer walks free,'" Dean had quoted Castiel.

"Lucifer...like, _the _Lucifer?" Jo had questioned, shock showing on her face.

"That's the one," Dean commented dryly.

After recounting the visit, everyone had agreed that the best course of action would to be to search for signs of the apocalypse – seals that they could prevent from being broken by Lilith.

They had stopped at a shabby motel off of the highway, resting before driving the rest of the way to their next case. Jo had finally convinced the boys that they should take the two beds, while she slept on the couch.

As Sam heard Dean and Jo settle down for the night and then quickly fall asleep, he had other things on his mind. Hearing the other two hunters' soft, slow breathing, he gathered up his duffel bag as quietly as possible. He shut the motel door quietly behind him with a soft click, and turned to go meet Ruby in the parking lot.

Back inside, Dean began having a nightmare. And not just any nightmare. This was one of his terror-inducing, cold sweat nightmares about hell. In his dream, he saw the red flashes, and heard the awful pain-filled screams and moans. He would have sworn that he felt Alistair's knives digging into his skin, feel the shackles digging into his wrists and ankles, and feel the blood and sweat dripping down his chest.

Suddenly, he saw a glimpse of blonde, wavy hair through the reddish light, and his heart froze in panic. _No. Not her. _The image became clearer and Dean's worst nightmares were realized. Jo was shackled to the wall across from him. Her head was hanging forward, and blood was pouring down her arms and legs. Her chest heaved up and down with labored breaths. _Look at me, Jo, _Dean wanted to comfort her. _I'll get you out of here._ He couldn't seem to speak in this scenario though, he couldn't get his voice to come out. Slowly, her head rolled back to rest against the wall behind her, her eyes shut with pain and exhaustion.

"Dean," she whispered, and with that Dean startled awake. He sat up in bed with sweat dripping down his back. He looked down towards the foot of his bed, towards where Jo was sleeping peacefully on the couch across from him. Her hair was in waves around her head, and her chest rose up and down with soft breaths. He sighed with relief, rubbing a hand over his face. _I won't get your blood on my hands_, he remembered telling her.

"Hello, Dean," a new voice next to him startled him "What were you dreaming about?" He turned and saw none other than Castiel sitting next to him. After the adrenaline died down some, he turned to look at Jo, sure that she must have woken up with Castiel's appearance. "Do not worry about her," Castiel said, sensing what Dean was worried about, "she is in a deep sleep."

"What did you do to her?" Dean demanded, angry that the angel would manipulate Jo.

"Joanna is not of importance yet," Castiel explained.

"The hell she isn't!" Dean near shouted, his anger rising. Not of importance? Did this angel even know how protective Dean Winchester was? Especially over the people he cared about? And _yet? _What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Before Dean could question it, Castiel was speaking again. "Listen to me, you have to stop it."

"Stop what?" But instead of answering him, Castiel raised two fingers to Dean's forehead and sent him back to 1973.

* * *

Even though Castiel had put Jo into a deep sleep, she was not free from any dreams of her own. While Dean was back in time to stop Mary's actions, Jo was getting a visit from an angel herself. In this dream, she felt as though she had woken up in the motel room the next day.

Based on the sunlight streaming through the window, she figured it to be early in the morning. She sat up on the couch, the blankets pooling around her middle, and stretched her arms over her head. Jo rubbed her eyes, and then turned to the clock on the table next to her. 7:02. Perfect, she thought sarcastically. It was still a little too early for her.

A new voice startled her out of her sleepiness. "Hello, Joanna."

The unexpected deep voice made Jo nearly jump out of her skin. A man was seated on one of the cheap chairs at the small table in the motel room. He was an older man with white hair, and he wore a neatly pressed suit. She looked to Dean, hoping that he would wake up. "Who are you?"

"They call me Ithiel. I've been ordered to make sure you do what you're supposed to." He replied evenly and arrogantly. Noticing the way Jo's glance kept flickering to Dean, he told her "Oh, don't worry about him. He won't wake up for this." He held a drink in one hand – scotch, it appeared – and swirled the ice around in the glass, observing its movement.

"'What I'm supposed to?' What the hell does that mean? Who are you?!" Jo asked, her voice rising in volume.

At her flare of anger, Ithiel immediately stopped swirling his drink around. His eyes flicked to hers, and a smug grin spread across his face. "Such anger for a beautiful girl like you. Just like Dean's buddy Castiel, I am also an angel of the Lord." He rose to his feet and started pacing around the room. "Now, I can't tell you exactly why I've been assigned to watch you yet. It's part of a bigger picture. Some top ranking angels ordered it themselves."

"What would an angel want with me?" Jo suddenly found herself in a similar situation with Dean. She empathized with him now, and voiced her concerns to the angel standing in front of her. "Why do you guys need me and Dean?"

Ithiel turned to face Jo directly, and looked down to where she was still sitting on the couch. "Look at you," he said evenly, that smug smile appearing on his face again. "So full of herself…" he mused. "Sweetheart, you're not as important to us as he is." He motioned behind himself towards Dean with his glass.

Jo shook her head, her brain trying to wrap around all of this information. "What do you want from me now?"

"Hey, ten points for blondie." He chuckled. "See, if you notice, something is not right with this picture." Ithiel raised his arms, motioning to the room around him. "And I bet, if you put that pretty little noggin of yours to work, you'll figure it out."

The conversation was getting more and more confusing. What did he mean? There was something wrong with the room? What could be amiss about the room that an angel would get involved, and get her to do something about it? She scanned the room, looking all around, while Ithiel continued to stare at her. Everything was as it should be, except… _Sam_. The younger Winchester did not seem to be in the room anymore, even though he had been there when they all fell asleep.

"Where's Sam?" Jo asked, her voice dripping with anger. What had he done to him?

"Yes!" Ithiel said excitedly. "That girl you got here is pret-ty smart," he said to Dean's unconscious form. "Exactly, Joanna. Where _is _Sam? I need you to think again. You overheard a conversation of Sam's the other day. Based on that, where do you think he is now?"

Jo's dream ended there. She bolted upright on the couch, looking around herself frantically for the angel. What did he want her to do? It was still dark outside now, and Dean was still asleep. She looked to Sam's bed slowly, hoping that she would see him sleeping there and that she had just had a wild dream. He wasn't.

"Shit!" she whispered to herself. Jo knew exactly what that meant. It meant that Sam was really working with a demon. She tiptoed over to the window, trying to not wake Dean. The Impala was still parked in the same space, so Sam had either walked or hitched a ride from this Ruby. She crept back over to her bag to grab a couple of ones. She was going to go down to the vending machine to grab a water – and to scope out the area, looking for Sam.

He didn't seem to be anywhere near the motel, either. Jo bought her water, and then headed back to their room. When she got back inside, Dean was pacing around the room, running a hand nervously over his face. As soon as he saw Jo, he said "Jo! Where were you?! I woke up and both you and Sam were gone!"

"Yeah, Dean, listen. There's something-"

But Dean didn't seem to hear her. He walked up to her and hugged her. She noticed that he was a little clammy. Releasing her from the crushing hug, he began saying "I couldn't stop it, I couldn't stop it." He turned around and sat back down on the end of the bed.

"Couldn't stop what?" Jo asked, secretly relieved that she could put off telling Dean that his little brother was working with a demon.

"My mom. Azazel. Any of it."

Even though he had answered her, he still seemed lost. He was tapping his foot on the ground. Jo sat on the bed next to him and grabbed his face between her hands. She turned his head so that he was focused on her. Her actions seemed to work, because his foot stopped tapping and she seemed to have his attention. "Dean, what are you talking about?" she asked slowly.

And so Dean told her all of it. About how Castiel had showed up and sent him back to 1973. He had been confused about what he was trying to stop until he met his grandparents and found the reason Azazel was now after his mother. It was because Mary had made a deal with Azazel to save John that she died in Sam's nursery back in 1983. "And she made the deal and I couldn't kill him in time. And now Castiel is telling me that Sam is 'going down a dangerous road' and I'm not exactly sure what that means right now and-"

"Dean stop." Jo told him. "I know what that means," she admitted quietly, looking at the ground. She wasn't sure if what she was about to do was the right thing, but she needed someone to know in order to help Sam.

"Jo? What do you know?" Dean asked, his back straightening.

"When we were, uh, when the witnesses were after us? I overheard Meg talking to Sam."

"Go on…." Dean prodded.

Jo sighed and looked into Dean's eyes. Looking at him almost made her break. She didn't want to tell him, knowing how much it would hurt him. Seeing him vulnerable like this reminded her of why she cared for him so much. "She said that Sam was working with a demon. Ruby."

While watching from heaven, a slow smile spread across Ithiel's face.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all for reading! By the way, if you have a tumblr, you can now follow this story's blog at chestervelle-twsu!**


	3. Slippery Slope

**A/N: Thank you all for being so patient while my classes restarted. I appreciated the reviews. Also, remember to go FOLLOW this story's blog on tumblr at chestervelle-tswu. There you can see gifsets and photosets depicting the story!**

* * *

**Slippery Slope**

**SPN Episode(s): **(Metamorphosis)

"_We have no past, we won't reach back. Keep with me forward all through the night" – Sleeping at Last_

At the moment, Jo was debating with herself whether it had been a good idea or not to tell Dean that his younger brother was working with a demon. She sat and waited quietly next to him on a scratchy motel comforter while she waited for him to process the news. A million different emotions flashed across his features: confusion, sadness, anger…. Each took only a few seconds to appear and disappear, and each turned his face a new shade of red. "How- how do you know this?"

"I overheard him talking with the ghost of a girl named 'Meg' the other day. When we were dealing with the witnesses. She accused him of working with a demon," her voice got smaller, "and he didn't deny it."

"Dammit, Sam!" Dean yelled, jumping up from the edge of the bed in anger. His sudden outburst had cause her to jump a little. Dean swiped his hand over his face. "That must have been what Cas was talking about when…" he muttered to himself, Jo just barely hearing him. He let a long breath out his nose while his eyes were shut, probably trying to calm himself. Speaking up louder again, he asked Jo, "Uh, why didn't you say anything to me earlier?"

Jo suddenly felt very guilty, even though she had done nothing wrong. The truth was that she hadn't told Dean because she didn't want to push the brothers apart, especially after Dean just got back from hell. Both brothers would have been deeply hurt to have a falling out just after Dean returned. Yet now it looked like it would happen anyway. She decided to not tell Dean that an angel appeared to her. One named Ithiel who told her she should let Dean know about Sam. That would just pile onto his stress. Jo scrambled then for a good excuse for Dean. "Well, because I was kinda hoping that Meg was lying. Y'know, it's Sam! I figured he couldn't have gotten himself in _that _much trouble. He's the gentle one for Christ's sake!"

Dean held up his hand to Jo. He appeared calm, but Jo knew better than that. Dean was ready to snap at any moment. "Okay. Do you know what we're gonna do? We're gonna go find my idiot brother, and then get back on the road." He dropped his hands again, and began moving to gather up his things from the room. "And then I'm gonna tell him to cut this shit out," he added to himself.

* * *

Dean had driven like a madman to get the address that Cas had told him about, his anger never breaking once the entire way. In that moment, Jo wished that she hadn't left her truck at Bobby's and agreed to ride with the Winchesters. She would have really appreciated being able to drive herself. To keep her mind off of the road whizzing by and the sound of tires screeching on pavement, she asked Dean more about what Castiel had told him. "So Dean, what did you mean when you said 'That must have been what Cas was talking about'?"

Dean's gaze flickered to her for a second, but he didn't seem to have heard her. His jaw was still clenched, and his eyes still looked murderous. Even though Jo was slightly afraid of him, she tried again to gain his attention. "Dean?"

Again his gaze flicked to her. "Yeah?"

"What did Castiel say to you before? You said 'that must have been what Cas meant when he said', and then you trailed off."

A long and frustrated sigh escaped Dean. "After Cas went all _Back to the Future _on me, he told me that I had to stop Sam because he was 'going down a dangerous road'." He paused for a moment, but still stared daggers at the road in front of him. "I didn't know what that meant until you told me."

Jo felt guilty. If this tore apart the brothers, she would now be partly responsible.

Ten minutes later, Dean and Jo made it to the address the Castiel had given him. Dean swerved into the gravel area outside of what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse so violently that gravel sprayed in several directions. He turned the car off and got out in one fluid motion, pacing briskly to the trunk. Jo was only a couple steps behind, and she saw Dean grab the demon knife out of his bag right before he slammed the trunk shut. "Stay here, Jo," he ordered, tucking the knife into the back waistband of his jeans.

_Stay here? _She questioned his order. So this was gonna be how it was. Again. Dean obviously thinking that she couldn't do the job. Yet, as she thought about it more, maybe that's not what this was about. Maybe he told her to stay back because this was between him and Sam. Between brothers. She shook her head. Even if it was, he might need back up. She was going to stay back, but not too far.

She went and stood near an open window where she could see Sam, a brunette woman (who she assumed was Ruby), and a man tied to a chair. She looked at the ceiling above them, and a large demon's trap made out of chains and metal hung over the chair.

"Where's Lilith?" Sam's commanding voice forced her to turn to him, instead of scoping out the place.

"Kiss my ass," the man in the chair retorted, eyes going black. _Demon, _Jo thought.

A menacing smile spread across Sam's face. "I'd watch myself if I were you."

"Why? Huh? Because you're Sam Winchester, Mr. Big Hero?" The demon paused for a minute, gauging Sam's reaction. The younger Winchester's nostrils flared. Seeing that the demon was successfully angering Sam, he continued "And yet here you are, slutting around with some demon. Real hero."

"Shut your mouth." Sam demanded, the smile gone from his face. Ruby seemed unfazed by the interaction, she just crossed her arms and leaned back.

"Tell me about those months without your brother," the demon in the chair started again. "About all the things you and this demon bitch do in the dark. Huh? Tell me, hero."

Sam's jaw began to quiver in anger. He held his hand up slowly to the demon. Jo was unsure about what that was supposed to do, until pain flashed across the demon's features. He began gagging, black smoke dripping and pouring from his mouth. As Sam shut his eyes tighter in concentration, the smoke began to come out in a thicker and more constant stream. It pooled around the man's feet, floating just above the ground. As the last few streams came out, the smoke burned into the concrete ground on the floor, leaving tiny embers in its wake. Sam's hand dropped and his head sagged in exhaustion, as did the man's. Looking up again, Sam and Ruby nodded to one another, pleased with their work.

Jo was completely taken aback by what she had just witnessed. Sam had just exorcised a demon using his _mind_. It could have no good consequences, Castiel had said so himself. But that didn't stop her from being slightly amazed.

Looking back inside, she saw Sam checking the man's pulse while Ruby looked on. Finding a pulse, Sam smiled widely back at Ruby, amazed with himself as well.

"How'd that feel?" Ruby asked, a proud smile stretched across her face. Sam set to work untying the man.

"Good. No more headaches." _Oh Sam, _Jo thought, shaking her head. This was not good.

"None?" Ruby asked happily. "That's good."

Sam smiled up at her as he took the last of the ropes off. The man was starting to come to and Sam made sure that he knew he was safe and going to get help. Sam and Ruby started walking the man back towards the entrance, but a very angry looking Dean stopped them in their tracks. Dean's face still appeared murderous. Jo knew that this was probably going to get ugly, and so she sprinted around the side of the building to follow Dean. Dean was already halfway to Sam, and so she only took a couple of steps inside as to not anger him further. Sam and Ruby noted her presence, as their eyes flicked to hers for just a second, but Dean seemed to not notice the appearance of Jo behind him.

"So…anything wanna tell me, Sam?" Dean asked coolly, although his voice was near cracking, his anger ready to burst at any moment. Jo gripped the door frame next to her, bracing herself for his inevitable outburst.

"Dean," Sam tried, holding up a hand in defense. "Hold on. Let me exp-"

"You gonna say 'Let me explain'? You gonna explain this?" Dean kept walking toward his younger brother with slow and calculated steps. "How about this? Why don't you start with who she is and what the hell is she doing here?" Dean paused for a moment before adding the dreaded question. "Is that Ruby?"

Dean knew that Jo had told him that Sam was working with Ruby, but he still held hope that this brunette standing in front of Sam was just mixed up in a hunt – maybe she was related to the man in the chair. A longshot, he knew, but that didn't stop him from hoping. Sam looked up at the ceiling in desperation, as if somehow he would find the answer there. He was breathing fast and his face became flushed, the obvious signs of guilt. Jo suddenly knew that she had been right, and that Meg had told the truth. For sure this time.

"Good to see ya again, Dean," Ruby replied unfazed. Jo took the time to study the brunette woman with dark eyes a little bit closer, now that she could see her better. Ruby seemed to notice this, and turned her head towards Jo. "Who's your friend?" she asked, nodding to Jo behind Dean.

When Ruby noticed Jo, Dean turned slightly to see that Jo was standing near the door. Turning back coolly, he replied "Leave her out of this."

"Oh, touched a nerve, did I? So she's more than that to you, huh? She's pretty, it'd be a shame if she got hurt in all of this," Ruby taunted with a smile. And that made Dean's anger peak. He charged towards Ruby and used his forearm to pin her against the wall. He drew his demon blade from its spot in his belt. He held the knife high, ready to strike down when Sam tackled Dean from the side to stop him. The brothers fell to the floor, wrestling in each other in a tangle. In the mix, the knife clattered to the ground, and Ruby used this opportunity to snatch it up. Her eyes became filled with anger and she started walking towards Dean, who had just managed to push his brother off of him, and was now lying on his back. She raised the knife above her head, ready to drive it into Dean's chest.

"Dean!" Jo shouted, sprinting towards Ruby to stop her from killing him. She stopped Ruby the quickest way she knew how – and that was to tackle her to the ground. A fight between the girls began. In the exchange, Jo felt a sharp slice go up her bicep and then warmth pool beneath her jacket and arm.

"Ruby, stop!" Sam shouted loudly, grabbing Ruby off of Jo. As Sam held Ruby around her waist, Jo still lay on the floor in shock. She checked the damage done to her arm and winced. The cut Ruby had inflicted on Jo was deep. The demon knife had cut through her jacket and several layers of skin. It looked as though it needed stitches.

Dean noticed the way the arm of Jo's coat was turning red and stomped over to her, his anger with Sam and Ruby flaring. He grabbed the bicep of her good arm and her other hand and pulled her up. Then he posted himself slightly in front of her, so that Ruby could not get to her again without going through him first.

Everyone stood around the room, staring at each other. No one was sure what the next move would be. Sam broke the silence first. "Ruby…Ruby, he's hurt," Sam nodded to the exorcised man who was still waking up, "Go."

Ruby walked over to him and draped his arm across her shoulders. As she began walking toward the door, Dean snapped out "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"To the ER. Unless you or your girlfriend wanna go another round first?" Ruby retorted, looking back at him. "Although I think I won round one," she added, nodding to Jo's bloody arm.

"Keep walking, bitch," Dean practically growled. All was silent again for a moment, before Dean turned his head to look at his younger brother.

Sam seemed at a loss for words, unsure of what to say, unsure of whose side he was on anymore. All he could muster was a small pleaded "Dean."

Dean's face remained stony, ignoring his brother and instead turning to Jo, who was now clutching her upper arm near her chest. Even though Dean was filled with rage, Jo still noticed how gently he grabbed her arm. He assessed her injury and muttered under his breath that it was going to require stitches. Without another word to Sam, Dean placed his hand on Jo's back to lead her out of the warehouse.

Another "Dean!" was heard from Sam, but only Jo looked back.

* * *

They had only been driving for a few minutes, and Dean had not said a word. Jo wanted to speak up, but she was afraid of setting off Dean even more. Jo knew that Sam was the most important thing in Dean's life, and to have such a rift between them was very painful for them. They had been together for most of their lives, and seemed to rely on each other. To find out that Sam had been doing something so wrong to Dean really hit him where it hurt.

What she didn't know at that moment, though, was that Dean was also battling with himself over something else.

As dawn started to break, Dean veered the car off to the side of the road and stopped there, getting out of the car. Jo looked to where he had gotten out in confusion, unsure of what he was going to do. She turned her head to watch him disappear around the back so that when he was suddenly opening the passenger door she jumped in her seat. "Come on," he muttered. "That arm needs looked at."

She stared at him for a few seconds, trying to gauge how angry he was. At the moment, he seemed genuinely concerned. His gaze was fixed on her sliced arm that she still clutched her chest. Deciding it was okay, she got out and followed him back to the trunk, which he propped open with a shotgun. He dug around for a minute, producing the necessary supplies to stitch up Jo's arm (which included some hunter's helper). Of course, they weren't going to go to a hospital because they would ask questions, and they would probably spend the night in the waiting room of the ER for a procedure that would take fifteen minutes.

"Sit down," he told Jo calmly, indicating that she sit on the bumper of the Impala. She sat down gingerly, waiting for him to soak the needle in some alcohol. "Take off your jacket," he said, noticing that she still wore it. However as soon as she began to take off the garment, the warm, sharp pain returned with a new degree of intensity. A hiss escaped through her gritted teeth and she clutched at the sleeve of her jacket with a tightened fist. Dean noticed that she was having trouble, and reached out to help. "Jesus, Jo. You're gonna make it worse."

Jo accepted the help, knowing that there was no way she was going to get her jacket off without it. The pain was just too great, and she would probably only make it worse. She let out a sigh and let her arms fall back down. However, when Dean grabbed the lapels of her hunter green coat and started to pull it off of her, her breath caught in her throat. The action had her heart hammering in her chest, and the feelings she had for Dean Winchester seemed to be the only thing she could think about in that moment. She was staring at him while he took off the jacket, and all she could think about was the fact that Dean was undressing her. Jo realized she had been staring when Dean turned his gaze to her after tossing her jacket over the lid of the trunk.

Her mind also went back to what Ruby had said about her and Dean in the warehouse. She had assumed they were _together_. It was probably because of how protective of her Dean was. Yet as quickly as the thoughts appeared, she shoved them down. Was she really looking into the meaning of what a _demon _had said?

If Dean noticed that Jo had been staring, he didn't comment on it. Instead, his face looked slightly pained. It made sense, Jo guessed, especially since he had just fought with his brother over something so substantial. She couldn't even imagine what she would do if someone she was close to was working with a demon. If her mom had, or if Ash had been…. No. She couldn't even think that.

As Dean rolled up the sleeve of her shirt to expose the wound, she was zapped back to reality, and where she really was. Dean poured a little splash of whiskey over the cut, and Jo gritted her teeth in pain at the sting. "Sorry," Dean said, taking a swig of the drink himself. "Here."

He offered the bottle to Jo, who accepted it graciously. She took a quick gulp of it herself, watching as Dean prepared a needle and some thread. Before Jo could drink enough of the whiskey to feel a decent buzz, and to therefore numb the pain, Dean was ready to stitch up her arm.

Jo looked away as Dean held the needle in between his fingers, coming at her with it. She jumped when the needle first pierced her skin and let out a small squeak of surprise and pain.

Dean's eyes flashed up to hers at the sound. "You alright?" he asked in his gruff voice.

"Yep," Jo responded quickly, remaining tough in front of Dean.

"You're fine," Dean said in a teasing manner.

"Well, it'd help if you weren't a butcher," she said with a small smile, remembering the night she pulled a bullet out of his arm. The night he'd promised he'd call her. It seemed so long ago now.

"You're welcome," Dean replied, smiling as he stitched, also remembering that night.

For the remainder of the stitches both Dean and Jo remained quiet. Jo stared at Dean's face as he worked, admiring him. His bright green eyes watched his work carefully, the tip of his tongue poking out and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He was so careful with her, and it made her heart swell. Most people would not think Dean Winchester had the ability to be as gentle and caring as he was at that moment. But Jo knew better. She was so wrapped up in him, that she barely felt the needle poking in and out of her flesh.

As he finished the last of them, he began wiping away the extra blood and wetness from the alcohol from around her wound. His face fell again, as it had when he had been driving, and his movements slowed. He stroked the cloth down her arm slowly, and his eyebrows furrowed, but in apparent sadness this time. He seemed to be wrestling with himself over something. Putting a piece of gauze and tape over the wound, he stood up from where he was sitting next to her on the bumper. He toyed with the rag in his hands, and kneeled in front of her. He looked down and then let out a sigh. "Jo, maybe it's not such a good idea for you to tag along with me anymore."

_What_? Where did that come from? The past couple of days he had believed that they should all stick together, what with the end of times and all. Did he really think he could just get rid of her? Just like that? "Wh-what?" Jo asked. "I thought we all agreed that we should stay together."

Dean let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, that's when I thought we were all on the same side. Now I don't know what side my brother is on." He thought over his words – the gravity of them. "It's just that you don't need to deal with this crap. Me and Sammy have our fair share of problems. I don't want them dumped onto you."

His impossibly green eyes looked back up to hers again. Her heart broke for him a little when she saw the tortured look on his face, but she regained composure quickly, knowing that he was not speaking rationally at the moment. He always beat himself up over nothing. "Dean, no. You shouldn't be in this alone right now. After everything. I mean-"

"No, Jo. You don't understand. I seem to hurt everyone and everything in my path. You don't have to be next." _I don't want you to be next, _is what Dean wanted to say. But Dean was being his usual self, and keeping his emotions in by pushing everyone away from him. He always played the martyr, and believed that anyone close to him was bound to get hurt.

"Dean, it's too late. I'm already in this. Besides, you don't get decide what I do, Winchester," Jo stated firmly. She crossed her arms for effect, ignoring the pain that radiated through her new set of stiches that came from the action. "This is the freaking apocalypse, you can't kick me out now."

Dean nodded to himself and looked down. His eyes remained sad. He would never understand why someone as young and beautiful as her would want to hunt. Of course, she had told him before that she did it to feel close to her father. He understood the feeling, but he knew that once you got into the hunter lifestyle, there was no leaving. The bad guys knew your name, and they would always try to find you.

Dean looked at Jo with a pained face. He smiled to himself, too, secretly happy that he would have her with him. She was so smart, and she always drew out the protective side of him and she always knew what to say and how to comfort him. She made him quicker, smarter. Looking back, Dean would maybe think that he backed down too early, and that he should have fought her more. Get her to stay away from him to keep her safe. But now, he realized he needed her with him. But in true Dean Winchester style, he didn't tell her how much he really needed her. Not yet, anyway. Instead, he leaned his forehead against hers, shutting his eyes, and resting his hand on the side of her head. He pushed his fingers through her hair, although his hand was so big that it covered the whole side of her head. He seemed so content and at peace like that. She was so goddamn beautiful and she wanted to stay with _him_. Even though he was broken, a shell of a man, Jo Harvelle wanted to fight with him and for him. That idea totally blew Dean's mind. A thought nudged at the back of his mind that maybe he would want her around all the time.

On the other side of the exchange, a thrill ran through Jo at Dean's touch, even though she was still officially pissed. He stroked his thumb across her cheek and through her hair, more so soothing himself than he was her. Too soon though, he withdrew his head from hers. "Okay, Jo," he let out a huff of air, "uh, we need to get our stuff from the motel." He pushed himself up from where he had been kneeling in front of her, and started to put equipment back in the trunk.

_That's it? _Jo questioned herself. He was giving up just like that? He wasn't going to keep fighting her on this? She had been ready to argue with him for a lot longer than that. Getting up without a word, she decided it was better not to question it and to take a little victory when she could. Jo helped Dean clean up the trunk, and then they both got back into the Impala. They rode all the way back to the motel without saying another word, and Jo kept shooting him questioning glances along the way.

* * *

Dean and Jo pulled into the parking lot of the motel to get their stuff and then leave.

At the moment, Dean was at a loss for exactly what he was supposed to do at this moment. Should he trust Sammy and take him along with him and Jo? Or does he tell him that he crossed the line, and that they should part ways? Dean was so tired, he decided to just wing it.

Dean parked the car, and blew air out of his nose in preparation for the inevitable confrontation that would happen with his younger brother. He shut his eyes and hung his head, unable to believe his current predicament.

"What's the plan?" Jo asked, trying to prep Dean.

"Just go in, grab your stuff as fast as you can, and then we bolt." Dean replied curtly.

Jo was only able to nod.

Dean's face suddenly turned to stone, a stern expression settling on his face. Without warning, he got up briskly and slammed the car door behind him. He set off for the motel room, walking slowly and menacingly. This left Jo to follow in his wake. She gave him space, allowing the brothers to deal with this on their own.

Dean threw open the motel door to see Sam sitting at a small table, reading a book. He paid his younger brother no mind, not even acknowledging his presence.

Sam, on the other hand, was startled when his older brother banged through the door. He jumped up out of his seat, fully expecting Dean to pick a fight. He had geared himself for this, ready to try and make his brother see his point of view. Instead, Sam was shocked to see his brother gather up his things. "Dean, what are you doing?" he questioned, "What, ar-are you leaving?"

"You don't need me… or Jo." Dean challenged. "You and Ruby go fight demons."

"Hold on. Dean, come on, man!" Sam reached out and grabbed Dean's arm. This turned out to be a mistake, because as he did, Dean turned and punched Sam across the jaw without warning.

Jo was shocked at the action, never having seen this side of the brothers before. Sam seemed dismayed as well, dabbing a few fingers at the blood that trickled out of his nose. "You satisfied?" he asked.

Instead of answering, Dean threw another punch. "I guess not," Sam commented, keeping his cool.

"Do you even know how far off the reservation you've gone?" Dean finally spoke. "How far from normal? From _human_?"

"I'm just exorcising demons!" Sam shouted back.

"With your mind!" Dean roared. He shook his head, disappointment etched across his features. "What else can you do?"

Sam seemed to mull over whether or not to answer his brother truthfully, before admitting "I can send them back to hell. It only works with demons, and that's _it_."

Jo took this distraction of the brothers to start gathering her things, while making sure to keep an ear on the conversation. She ignored the pain that radiated through her stiches as she picked up her heavy equipment. A loud crash sounded behind her that caused her to jump, the result of Dean throwing Sam backwards.

"What else can you do?!" Dean questioned again, not believing his brother.

"I told you!"

"And I have every reason in the world to believe that." Dean answered rather quietly. He turned to walk out of the door again, grabbing his packed bag from the bed. Jo saw his movements, and began walking ahead of him towards the door. She walked outside, but then heard the brothers begin to argue again. She kept her back against the outside wall of the motel, still listening in to the brothers' argument.

"Look, I should've said something!" Sam defended, trying to stop Dean from leaving. "I'm sorry Dean. I _am_. But try to see the other side here."

"The other side?!"

"I'm pulling demons out of innocent people!" Sam reasoned.

"Use the knife!" Dean's voice cracked a little as he reached maximum volume.

"The knife kills the victim!" Sam yelled back. "What I do, most of them survive! Look, I've saved more people in the last five months that we save in a year."

"That what Ruby wants you to think? Huh?" Dean asked, his voice lowering again. "Kind of like the way she tricked you into using your powers? Slippery slope, brother. Just wait and see. Because it's gonna get darker and darker, and God knows where it ends"

"I'm not gonna let it go too far." Sam said, a hint of trepidation in his voice.

Dean nodded and chuckled to himself. His anger rose to dangerous levels, as was evident by the lamp he sent hurtling across the room. Outside, Jo jumped. "It's already gone too far, Sam. If I didn't know you, I'd wanna hunt you." Ouch. The statement hit Sam like a freight train. Tears formed in his eyes, and he stared in disbelief at his brother. The breath that Jo had been holding escaped her quickly and she wondered what this meant for the inseparable brothers. "And so would other hunters."

Sam's voice came dangerously close to cracking. "You were gone. I was here. I had to keep on fighting without you. And what I'm doing…it works."

"Well, tell me." Dean said, developing a cocky fake bravado again. "If it's so terrific, they why did you lie about it to me? Why did an angel tell me to _stop _you?"

"What?" Sam seemed genuinely confused by the statement. It showed on his face.

"Cas said that if I don't stop you," Dean pointed a finger at Sam, "he will. See, what that means, Sam – that means that _God _doesn't want you doing this. So, are you just gonna stand there and tell me that everything is _all good_?"

The tears that Sam had desperately been trying to hold back began to fall. Dean's expression didn't change, he still stared at Sam with anger. The phone rang suddenly then, causing all three hunters to jump. Sam seemed to debate with himself over whether or not to pick it up, before he decided to answer. "Hello? Hey, Travis. Yeah, hey." Sam pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to pull himself together for the hunter on the other end of the phone. "Uh… it's good to hear your voice, too. Um, look, it's not really a good time right now-" Something Travis had said caused Sam to stop and listen. He grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, ready to jot down the information Travis gave him. "Yeah, okay. Uh, well, just give me the details, and, uh – Sam began to write on the notepad – "Carthage, Missouri. Looking for Jack Montgomery."

* * *

Up in heaven, Ithiel listened in to and watched the Winchesters' conversation. He smoked a cigarette, eyebrows pointed upwards in feigned boredom.

Suddenly, he noted the presence of another angel standing next to him, also observing the exchange. He turned sideways slightly, seeing that it was his brother, Michael. The archangel didn't wait long to let his business with Ithiel to be known. "Is everything running smoothly? According to plan?" Michael questioned.

"Yes, sir," Ithiel responded dutifully, not looking over to his brother. A mention of a town name in the Winchesters' conversation caused Ithiel to startle in surprise. _Carthage, Missouri_. "Is it time already sir?"

"What do you mean, brother?" Michael asked, eyes trained on the Winchesters' actions.

"Carthage. Is it time for the Harvelle girl?" Ithiel repeated, finally turning to look at Michael.

A deep chuckle reverberated in Michael's throat. "No, not yet, brother. She still has work to do."


End file.
